


Starfall

by paperfeathers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean POV, Fantasy AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not much plot, completely self-indulgent, dragons and mages and prophetic visions oh my, light gore pertaining to descriptions of injuries (non-extensive)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperfeathers/pseuds/paperfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fantasy AU. Dean POV. When a falling star nearly obliterates the Winchesters’ village, the last thing Dean expects is to find out Sam’s somehow involved in all this. Meanwhile, Sam’s keeping some secrets of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starfall

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: I was in the mood for mages, dragons, and fluffy hurt/comfort. Voila the result. Some gore, and descriptions of injuries, but nothing too major.

“This way.”

The foliage was so thick that Dean had to hack at the greenery every three paces just to make some headway out of the forest. Though it was high noon, the sun was still half-shrouded with ash, making the shadows appear longer, more threatening. The smell of scorched wood and earth made breathing painful, and the splinters didn’t help Dean’s mood any. Neither did the sight of Sam, light-footed despite his  awkward eighteen -year old gangliness, slipping through the gaps between trees and scrambling over roots. Near wraith-like in his white robe, dogwood staff clenched tight in his hand.

 

It was always with a flash of guilt that Dean swallowed down his uneasiness whenever he saw Sam all tricked up like an actual mage. Witches were all right. They cured the sick and kept blight from settling on the crops. But mages – they were different. Other. One foot already in the next world, just waiting to take the next step. Dean’s village wasn’t important enough to merit its own mage, but many often passed through on their travels. Old or young, all of them had the same look in their eyes, almost wild, as if they were seeing and listening to things beyond this world. Now, watching Sam slip through trees with barely a rustle with such an intense, almost rapturous expression on his face, Dean thought that he might not have been so off the mark.

The added fact that his brother’s return coincided with the streak of light crashing into the heart of the forest only made Dean uneasier. He had never been one to believe in omens or signs, but for seven days now the sun hadn’t managed to pierce through the veil of ash enshrouding the skies. Father hadn’t even let them join the hunting expedition, and it took Sam days of endless begging and guilt-tripping to convince Dean to accompany him on this mad journey.

“ _Hurry!”_ It’s not grated out, exactly, but you would’ve been deaf to not hear the bite of impatience and command in Sam’s voice. Dean was about to snarl out a reply, but a moment later and the retort died in his throat.

The first thing he noticed was that it was  _cold._ Like the memory of a particularly horrible winter when he was six years of age. The second thing he noticed was that the ground was razed, almost completely. A patch of land roughly the size of several farmlands was now nothing more than a barren, shallow bowl, with several stumps jutting out of the cracked ground like rotten teeth. The remaining trees were charred, branches held aloft to the sky as if in reproach for whatever had befallen them.

“This is where the dragon fell.” Dean could hear the suppressed excitement in Sam’s voice. He was practically vibrating with tense excitement, and without warning or regard for his own safety he took off.

Dragon sightings were few and far between these days, and the sight of a lone one even rarer. An injured dragon falling to its death would explain the light and the sudden explosion. But for the life of him, Dean can’t figure out where and how the dragon could’ve dragged itself to safety. Looking around him, Dean couldn’t help but wonder how the hells a dragon of such size could cause such destruction, but still manage to elude the villagers hunting for it high and low. Any other day Dean would be voicing his concerns to Sam, but now – Something was going to happen. Dean could feel it, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Dean,  _hurry.”_ There’s a note of urgency in Sam’s voice now. He’s pushing through the remaining undergrowth scarring the crater’s lip – looking for something, Dean realized.

That was the last straw. Dean abruptly grabbed Sam’s shoulder, swinging him around to face him. Anger thrumming inside him, but he still feels an icy prickle of fear when he sees the cold fury darken Sam’s face. A split second later it’s gone, stifled. This only makes Dean angrier.

“ _Dean_ , what the-“   

“Don’t you start.” Dean growls. “Sam, just what the hell is going on here, huh? We’ve been running around for two days, and whenever I ask you just what the hell we’re doing in here, you clam up. So, I’m going to ask you again, or so help me I’m turning back and dragging you with me.”

For a moment Sam looks quietly mutinous, but a moment later his shoulders slump. “… I had a dream.”

“A  _dream?_  About what?”

“About this. All of this.”  

“All of this? You mean you dreamt about the dragon falling, and us looking for it?”

“Yes. _”_  Sam inhales, lets out an unsteady breath. “Look, all I know is that a week before it happened, I was having some really strange dreams about light and fire. Then the Archmagus called me to his study and told me about it. After that, I knew that if I wanted answers, I needed to come here. That’s it, Dean. I  _swear.”_

The look on his face is that soft, earnest look Dean knows so very, very well. In spite of himself Dean feels himself cave in, just a little. But not enough to let it go. “These dreams… What did you see in them?”

Sam shrugs. “Light. Pain. A lot of it. And a name.”

“What name?” But Sam doesn’t answer. He tenses, goes very still. Before Dean knows it, he’s taken off at top speed, leaving Dean to curse and run after him.

Thorns and splinters tear at his robe, his limbs, his face, but he pays them no mind. He’s saying something, calling out to someone, but Dean can’t hear him. The cold becomes harsher and the air denser, until Dean feels like there are heavy iron bands squeezing his chest and head. His head’s spinning, and he’s about to collapse. All of a sudden Sam stops. Kneels.

Dean makes his way to him, clutching at a stitch on his side. For the second time that day he’s struck dumb by what he sees.

A man. Naked and shivering, covered with dirt and half-buried under some thick bushes whose thorns had torn deep gashes on his skin. His legs were broken, bent into unnatural angles, and judging by the bruising on his chest and back his ribs weren’t in too good shape either. Dried blood crusted his head and face, making it impossible to discern his features.

Sam was murmuring something unintelligible but soothing into the man’s ear, gentle hands feeling for injuries. His fingers hesitantly trail over the man’s face, eventually coming to rest on his cheek.  Dean suddenly remembered something their Uncle Bobby had told them about dragons. That sometimes they could slip into the skins of powerful sorcerers and walk hidden among men.

“Hélel…” He’s hesitant at first, tasting the name on his tongue. The man stirs at the sound, and this emboldens Sam. _“H_ _é_ _lel…_ It’s all right. It’s going to be all right. Just relax.”

  “… So that’s him. That explains why the other hunters couldn’t find him.” Dean goes unheard. All of a sudden the man’s eyes snap open. Dean catches a glimpse of disoriented, terrified blue before they fall shut again. The man’s breathing sounds rattling and pained, this close to giving in entirely.  But after a few seconds he opens his eyes again, and this time he looks at no one but Sam. 

“ _Samuel.”_ He breathes out.  Dean goes cold with shock, but Sam… Sam smiles. Cradles the man’s face with his hand and runs comforting fingers through his hair.  

“It’s all right, Hélel.  You’re safe now. Everything’s going to be all right.”


End file.
